Altair in Wonderland
by Satsuriku-Sama
Summary: A Cat may look at a king. I've read that in some book, but I don't remember where. But. Can a king fulfill a Cat's expectations? Let's find out.


I wrote a bit of Lewis Carroll's words in my story 'Seer', so I thought I'd make another one, more focused on 'Alice in Wonderland'. It has nothing to do with 'Seer', though it would be nice if you read it too, and left me a review *grins*. A bit of crack-ish smut, but come on, people, I _had_ to put a pun in there _somewhere_…Oh, and the part where I sometimes call the Cheshire Cat an 'it' and sometimes a 'she' is on purpose. Just to emphasize the mix. You'll see.

* * *

Altair was not happy.

He was just a few miles from Masyaf, traveling back to report his latest assassination to his master, when his horse decided that it wanted to get lost. And no, it was not Altair's fault he was in the middle of nowhere. It was the horse's.

The Assassin growled. All these years, he had never come across a forest so dense. Sure, it was pretty, and the colorful flowers and insects marveled him, but he had no time for something like this. He got off his horse and started walking. The air was thick with some sort of smoke, but it was not the kind of smoke a fire would make. It smelled of tobacco and incense. He kept walking on the overgrown path, squinting against the thickening fog. He stretched his right hand out, so not to bump against anything. He felt something to his left. After waving frantically around for a bit, dispersing little of the smoke, he managed to see what the soft surface was.

There was a large mushroom growing near him, about the same height as himself. He stared at the size of the fungus. He himself was one of the tallest assassins, and was used to looking down at things. He decided to study it. When he had looked under it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to him that he might as well look and see what was on the top of it.

He stretched himself up, and looked over the edge of the mushroom, and his eyes immediately met those of an extremely large caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of him or of anything else. A proportionally large erection was resting on one of its hands, while another stroked it languidly.

The Caterpillar and Altair looked at each other for some time in silence. At last, the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed him in a languid, sleepy voice:

"_Who_ are _you_?"

"My name is not important to you." Altair replied cautiously. Had he eaten something rotten to make him see a Caterpillar as big as himself, smoking talking and jackin' off?

"What do you mean by that?" said the Caterpillar sternly. "Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself." Altair said indignantly. "Don't you see I'm lost?"

"I _don't_ see" said the Caterpillar, puffing out smoke in Altair's face, and promptly looking at his crotch, giving his own another stroke, to emphasize his point.

"I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly." Altair replied, his already thin patience stretching further. "For I can't understand it myself to begin with, and being such a common size is very disturbing."

"It isn't" said the Caterpillar.

"Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet," said Altair; "but when you have to turn into a chrysalis—you will someday, you know—and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?"

"Not a bit." said the Caterpillar.

"Well, perhaps your feelings may be different." said Altair; "All I know is, it would feel very queer to _me_."

"That is just not right" said the Caterpillar. Frowning at his choice of words.

"Not _quite_ right, I'm afraid." said Altair. "Size-change might be a bit weird."

"It is wrong from beginning to end." said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes. "What size do you want to be?" it finally asked.

"Oh, I'm not particular as to size." Alice hastily replied. "Only one doesn't like being so common, you know."

"I _don't_ know." said the Caterpillar. "Are you content now?"

"Well, I should like to be a _little_ larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind." said Altair. "Eight inches is such a common size to be."

"It is a very good size indeed!" said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke, making its member stand out more (it was exactly eight inches big).

This time Altair waited patiently until it calmed down and chose to speak again. In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it looked back down at Altair, merely remarking:

"One side will make you grow larger, and the other side will make you grow smaller."

"One side of _what_? The other side of _what_?"

"Of the mushroom." said the Caterpillar, exasperated.

Altair remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it, and as it was perfectly round, he found this a very difficult question. However, at last he stretched his arms round it as far as they would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.

"And now which is which?" he said to himself, and nibbled a little of the right-hand bit to try the effect. The next moment, he felt a violent blow underneath his manhood: his sack had shrunken back. The Caterpillar merely chuckled as it puffed away.

He was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but he felt that there was no time to be lost, as he was shrinking rapidly, so he set to work at once to eat some of the other bit.

"My head's free at last!" said Altair in a tone of delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when he found that his pants had ripped. He couldn't possibly be able to walk like this. So, he very carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and growing sometimes bigger, and sometimes smaller, until he had succeeded in bringing himself to what he considered the perfect size. Eleven inches.

It felt quite strange at first; but he got used to it in a few minutes, and began stroking himself, marveling at all the new, more sensitive nerves. The mushroom must have done that too. The Caterpillar chuckled knowingly, and continued stroking himself, watching as Altair fell to his knees and increased his rhythm. Soon, the Assassin was spent, a white mess on his hands. A large leaf dangled in front of him. He plucked it from the bush, and used it to clean himself.

He stood up and saw the Caterpillar discarding another spoiled leaf.

"I can't find this place on any map I have." Altair asked after they had caught their breaths.

"That's because it isn't." said the Caterpillar, lazily puffing away.

"Well, can you tell me the way out?" Altair tried to reason.

"No."

Altair began looking around once more, looking for anything familiar.

"You!" said the Caterpillar contemptuously. "_Who_ are _you_?"

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation. Altair felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such _very_ short remarks, so he drew himself up and said, very gravely:

"I think, you ought to tell me who _you_ are, first."

"Why?" asked the Caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question, and as Altair could not think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a _very_ unpleasant state of mind, he turned away.

"Come back!" the Caterpillar called after him. "I've something important to say!"

Altair rolled his eyes, but turned back, nonetheless.

"Keep your temper." said the Caterpillar.

"Is that all?" said Altair, swallowing down his anger as well as he could. It tasted bitter, and the saddest of it all, he was getting used to it.

"No." said the Caterpillar.

Altair thought he might as well wait, as he had nothing else to do, and perhaps after all it might tell him something worth hearing. For some minutes, the Caterpillar puffed away without speaking, but at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said:

"So you're lost?"

"Yes." Altair waited for directions. Maybe he should go back to Masyaf and see if he was poisoned.

"Keep walking in that direction." The Caterpillar pointed its hookah down a path. "The one who lives there knows all the paths to everywhere." Altair nodded in thanks, and turned to leave. "One more thing." The Caterpillar called. "She might want something in return." It said in a warning tone, before disappearing behind the thick clouds of smoke. Altair frowned in confusion, but kept walking. His horse trotted behind him, nudging his back with its nose every now and then.

His feet hit something soft. Looking down, he saw he was standing on a thick rug, with a sign next to it, saying:

"Please remove your footwear."

He tilted his head to the side and scratched it. Oh well. He sat on the floor and unstrapped his boots from his feet. Putting them in the saddlebag, he continued walking. The carpets on the earthy floor of the forest were very soft, reminding him of the bureaus. He increased his pace, remembering he needed to get to either Acre or Jerusalem.

He started to feel very warm, and looked around when he heard a strange swooshing noise. He shrugged it off and kept walking. A few meters in front of him, was a huge fireplace, a roaring fire giving out the intense warmth he was feeling. On the hearth, something was sprawled out, its back to Altair, bathing in the warmth of the fire. He frowned at it. The curves on its body made it look like a woman, but he quickly disregarded that thought when he noticed pointy triangles poking out if its head, and a long, thin tail from its lower back. Maybe a combination of a woman and a large cat would best describe this creature.

He continued examining it, even when it noticed him looking. It did not wear any clothes, but it had very thick and dense violet fur, streaked with dark purple on the back and limbs. It stretched sleepily on the hearth and turned around to look at him. The fur on its stomach was light violet, almost pinkish, and looked very soft. It blinked its green eyes sleepily at him.

"What are you?" Altair finally asked it, thinking about his question.

"I'm a Cheshire Cat." It said, and grinned widely, showing Altair most of its dazzling white sharp teeth.

"I didn't know that cats could grin." he said, watching the small dots of light reflecting off her fangs.

"We all can." It said. "And most of us do."

"I don't know of any that do." Altair said.

"You don't know much, and that's a fact." It flicked its tail humorously and watched Altair with curiosity.

Altair suppressed his anger when he remembered that it could possibly know the way out of here. He opened his mouth to ask it, but stopped with his jaw hanging open when he saw the cat gradually disappear in wisps of violet and purple clouds, until only its eyes were left. They rose to the height of Altair's chin, and came slowly closer. In a small whirl of dark smoke, its pouty grin appeared again below the eyes.

Altair raised his left hand to touch, but flinched back when everything disappeared in another wisp of smoke, followed by an echoing chuckle. He took a moment to recompose himself and kept walking through what seemed to be a strange, but cozy home.

He noticed himself marveling a little, as he studied the rugs overlapping each other, then disappearing gradually into the soft earth of the forest. There were oversized cushions and pillows scattered around, round glass tables next to each soft mass. On the tables were glasses and jars with wine, and plates with fruits. The soft green and purple hues of everything, made the lighting warm and inviting, though a bit heavy, and Altair started to feel a bit heavy-lidded. He looked up to see the sky, but it was blocked by the many branches and leaves of the trees growing around.

He was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire Cat lying on a bough of a tree a few yards off, watching him curiously with its head propped on its elbow. Its venom-green eyes made Altair shudder slightly at the intense stare. The Cat only grinned wider when it saw Altair had spotted it. It looked good-natured. Still, Altair studied the hand holding its chin and its grin more closely. It had _very_ long claws and a great many teeth, so he felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

"Cheshire Puss." he began, rather cautiously, as he did not know whether it would like the name. However, it only grinned a little wider. "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" he decided that being polite would be the best way to deal with this situation.

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to." said the Cat.

"I don't much care where—" began Altair.

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go." the Cat let its tail fall from where it was tangled through its legs and let it hang, flicking it annoyingly back and forth.

"—so long as I get _somewhere_." Altair added as an explanation.

"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, rolling to its side and falling off the branch. Just before it hit the floor, it disappeared in a small _poof_ of smoke. Another soft _poof_ later, it appeared on Altair's horse, lying on its back across the saddle, looking upside-down at Altair. "if you only walk long enough."

Altair felt that this creature mustn't be so dangerous, since his horse was still calm. The Cat _poof_ed away again and reappeared next to a path leading to Altair's right, leaning its shoulder on a tree, its arms crossed.

"In this direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, "Garnier de Naplouse awaits your blade." It walked around the tree. Altair shifted his eyes to the other side of the wood, but heard a rustle behind him. Turning around, he saw the cat emerging from behind another tree. "And in this direction," it said, waving the other paw, "Talal shall be the one to die first. Visit either you like. They're both mad."

"Mad?" Altair watched as the cat waved its fingers, playing with the wisps of smoke.

"Yes, mad." said the Cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad." It grinned wider and shifted its neon green eyes to Altair's amber ones. "You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" Altair stood akimbo.

"Oh, you must be," the Cat's voice lowered to a sultry octave. "or you wouldn't have come here."

Altair watched as it came closer, his eyes lowering to its naked swaying hips. "And how do you know that you're mad?"

"To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"

"I suppose so." said Altair, marveling at how well balanced the Cat's walk was.

"Well, then," the Cat went on, stopping before the Assassin and looking up at him. "you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased." It waited until Altair nodded, then went on, sliding its small hands up Altair's chest and circling its long arms around his neck, draping herself over him. "Now, I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."

"I call it purring, not growling." said Altair.

"Call it what you like." said the Cat, touching their thighs and wrapping her tail around one of Altair's legs. "But do you want to hear me do so?" it whispered against his ear.

"I should like it very much." Altair ran his large hands up the creature's waist. "but I haven't been invited yet."

"You will be," said the Cat, and vanished, leaving Altair to hug smoky air.

Altair was not much surprised at this, he was used to it disappearing by now. While he was looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly appeared again.

"By-the-bye, have you seen Absolem?" said the Cat. "I'd nearly forgotten to ask."

"Absolem?" Altair hurried to embrace the Cat again. She kept standing as if he weren't even touching her.

"The blue Caterpillar." She explained.

"He…helped me earlier." Altair said quietly.

"I thought he would." said the Cat, and vanished again.

Altair waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not appear, and after a minute or two, he walked on in the direction in which the Cat said Acre stood. As he walked, he looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree.

"Did you say he helped you?" she asked. Altair nodded. "How exactly?"

"He told me to eat the mushroom." replied Altair. "And I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly, it's annoying."

"All right." said the Cat, and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone. "Is this better? Not so sudden?" the floating grin said.

Altair waited until the eyes appeared, and then nodded. 'It's no use speaking to it.' he thought, 'Until its ears have come, or at least one of them.' In another minute the whole head appeared. The Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in sight, and no more of it appeared.

"How do you like the decoration?" said the Cat in a low voice.

"Not at all." said Altair. "It makes me feel tired."

"Wouldn't you let me prove you wrong?" the shoulders of the cat appeared slowly, as did gradually the rest of its body. "I think it makes me full of energy. An adrenalin rush, if you get my drift..." The Cat's eyes scanned Altair, stopping a moment more at the rip in the front of his pants.

"I don't like the look of it at all." Altair insisted. "However, you may try to tire me, if you like."

"I'd rather not." the Cat remarked.

"Don't be impertinent." He snorted. "And don't look at me like that! I know you'd like to see what I can do."

"'A Cat may look at a king.'" said the Cat. "I've read that in some book, but I don't remember where." It put its finger to its chin and looked up in thought. "But." It looked back at Altair, trailing the finger down to her collarbone. "Can a king fulfill a Cat's expectations?"

Altair watched as the Cat slid down the trunk of the tree and stepped lightly to his horse. She led it away and tied the reins to a nearby tree.

"Let's find out." She took Altair's hand and guided him to another direction. Altair saw that there were more and more cushions every step they took, and soon, he was shin-deep in fluffy softness. He looked up from his fixed stare at her hips when she turned to walk backwards, and saw that she was leading him to the largest cushion he had ever seen. He felt his fingers be released, and watched as she fell back on the dark purple velvet.

Vivid green eyes bore into his skull, lust clearly evident in their depths. He expertly unbuckled all his weapons and laid them in a nearby glass table. He let himself fall forward, and caged the Cat under him, using his elbows and knees as support. The cat merely grinned, and vanished in a wisp of smoke. Altair groaned and flopped over on his back.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?" he asked the seemingly empty room. As an answer, he felt something weigh the mattress down next to his thighs and a violet hand appeared in front of his chest. It had very sharp, dark purple claws. The index finger trailed from Altair's neck to his waist, ripping his robes and shirt open. He opened his mouth to protest, but the Cat's face appeared in front of his and smashed their mouths together. Altair was lost in the honey sweet taste of the small tongue massaging his own. He faintly heard more cloth ripping, but didn't care. He ran his hands up the slim waist and dug his fingers in the soft fur beneath them. He rolled around and pinned her down with his whole body, the soft fur of her belly tickling his bare skin.

Bare?

He looked down. Somehow, she had managed to get all his clothes off him. He looked down at their bodies touching. Her violet fur contrasted well with his olive dark skin. His erection was pressed against her thigh, making him rock a little against it. He looked back up at her green eyes and felt her spread her legs apart, hugging him with them. Positioning himself at her moist entrance, he bent down to kiss her again. Their tongues wrestled, until Altair thought she was distracted enough, then slammed in, until his hipbones were buried in soft fur.

She bit down on his lower lip and hissed through her teeth, thrashing beneath him. Altair groaned at the hot tightness and the long, sharp claws ripping deep gashes across his back. He stilled a moment, waiting for her to adapt.

"Move." He felt her chest vibrate violently as she growled. He started with a slow rhythm, gradually increasing, until the claws on his back stopped scratching, and just sunk into his flesh, holding him as anchor from the deep, harsh thrusts he was bombarding her with.

Altair knew what was coming when she started to yowl louder, but when her walls began to pulse out of his rhythm, he faltered. The heat increased, and he groaned a bit in pain at the unbearable tightness, feeling it slicken even more, almost making him slip out. He followed suit with his own in a mindnumbing explosion.

After the fireworks died down to small spots in his sight, Altair's arms gave way and he tumbled over the Cat, burying his nose in the fur of the crook of her neck. She pulled her claws from his flesh and panted with him.

Altair regained some of his breath and knelt, holding the Cat's waist, thus keeping them firmly connected. He gripped her tighter, leaning slightly forward and rolling his hips slowly and languidly, moving himself around inside of her. She groaned at the movement and fisted the velvet beneath her. Looking at the creature beneath him writhe at the feeling of his limp cock, Altair felt himself harden again, ready to test her limits to teasing, now that he was calmer. As the green eyes widened in mixed shock and wonder, he _agonizingly_ slowly pulled out, until only his head was still in her folds. A soft whine escaped the Cat's throat at the loss of him. He started to shallowly thrust, the deepest one barely dipping an inch into her.

"Please…" she breathed between whines. "Please…"

"Please what?" he pulled completely out and rubbed his whole length up and down against her.

"Please…deeper…please…please, go deeper." She begged.

"Make me." He kept rubbing himself on her, but not entering.

She raised the tip of her tail to grasp his sack, massaging his balls. He half-closed his eyes as the tickling feeling of her soft fur rose even more to curl around his member, squeezing and stroking him, slowly milking a thick white drop of precum from his slit. He watched as she caught it with the tip of her finger and raised it to her mouth. Her pink tongue flicked against it, then her lips closed around her finger and wetly sucked it from knuckle to claw.

Altair dragged his short nails on her round, fleshy bottom and down her thighs, until he grasped the back of her knees and violently tugged them over his shoulders. Bending her almost in half as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on her chest, he buried himself hiltdeep in the slick chamber. The shrill yowl next to his ear made him shudder and dig his knees into the velvet, pressing further forward until it was humanly impossible to get any more of himself inside the creature.

He turned his head in the full, soft tuft of fur on her chest, feeling around her firm breasts with his face. His nose hit what he was looking for, and he quickly sucked the hard nub into his mouth. As he abused it with his tongue and teeth, he thrusted shallowly, much like he was doing earlier, only with the other end of his erection. He let the nipple in his mouth slip out with a small _pop_ and searched around for the left one with his hand. He pinched and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, watching the Cat's face.

Her neon green eyes were short of shining in their own light, the only shadow darkening them were of her thick, deep purple lashes, drooped over her slit pupils.

"More…" she managed to croak out.

Altair let go of all restraints he had. He pounded, mercilessly into her, with so much force that it crossed the line from pleasure to pain, and was most likely to bruise both of them, but at the moment it was just what they needed. He felt her contract around him once more, and rode it out decently, now that he could concentrate on holding himself back. When she lay limp like a ragdoll at his mercy, he pounded even harder to follow her. She panted and hissed at his harsh ministrations, and pulled and ripped at the purple velvet beneath them. The familiar warmth in his lower stomach increased, and he released it into her, slowing down to slow, long movements. His eyes widened as he watched her begin to thrash under him again, incoherent mewls and yowls escaping her sore vocal chords, until, for the third time, her insides began to pulse, milking the rest of his orgasm from him.

Once more, his arms gave way and he fell on her, panting. Altair lifted himself on his elbows and let her legs fall back down on the purple velvet. Pulling out, he heard her groan as their mixed juices seeped out of her. He still panted as she reached sideways and pulled a towel from under one of the pillows. He took it from her and wiped the insides of her thighs, then rubbed the towel on the small puddle.

"Leave it." She dragged herself to the center of the overly large cushion, pulling him with her. She coaxed him to lay his head on her chest. Altair felt sharp-clawed fingers splay through his hair, and closed his eyes, snuggling deep into the soft tuft of hair under his face. A deep rumbling noise accompanied the soft vibrating under his head.

"It _is_ purring." He mumbled sleepily. A soft mewl was his answer. Altair let the lingering touches, caresses and purring lull him to a deep sleep, the most resting he had in months.

* * *

Altair woke up to the soft vibrations under his head and chest. He flexed his fingers in the soft fur of his makeshift pillow and buried his face in it, deeply breathing in the sweet smell of her.

"Awake already, Assassin?" a sleepy voice called from above him.

"Hmm…" he hummed, relaxed. "Is my back alright?" he asked, without opening his eyes.

"It looks like you got into a catfight." It trailed its fingers over the gashes. Altair felt them burn, and was sure he heard something hiss, but soon, the stinging cleared, and left behind his still quivering, but relaxed, muscles. "There." She said, and continued stroking his back. He opened his eyes and noticed it was already dark, the only light came from a few fireflies and the Cat's glowing eyes.

"I never told you my name, did I?" he asked, watching the light swirl around her pupils. "It's Altair."

"Altair, the flying one." She grinned. "You know, birds are my favorite food." She held his face and coaxed it closer, whispering against his lips: "And I love playing with my food."

The assassinations were going to have to wait a bit more.

* * *

Now that we've established that _yes_, I am a sick person, and _no_, there are not enough days in the week for the amount of therapy I need, please review!


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